


Slain

by Nana_41175



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Bond is being an arse over the comms, Humor and Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Q has laryngitis, Romance, of course after Q is better, punishment is in order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nana_41175/pseuds/Nana_41175
Summary: Written for 007 Fest 2020’s collab prompt: Q has laryngitis, but Bond refuses to work with any other handler. Bond takes full advantage of Q not being able to talk back at him on the comms, so Q gets his revenge (maybe in the bedroom, maybe at work, maybe somewhere else entirely) when Bond gets back.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 12
Kudos: 119





	Slain

**Author’s Notes:** This is written for **007 Fest 2020’s** collab prompt. [**Soufflegirl91**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soufflegirl91/pseuds/soufflegirl91) asked for: Q has laryngitis, but Bond refuses to work with any other handler. Bond takes full advantage of Q not being able to talk back at him on the comms, so Q gets his revenge (maybe in the bedroom, maybe at work, maybe somewhere else entirely) when Bond gets back.

Many special thanks to my very wonderful Beta, **[Christinefromsherwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood),** for her very thorough and insightful edits!

* * *

“Yes?” Q said, looking up from his monitor. Only, it did not come out as anything like his usual voice. It was a dry half-croak, half-whisper.

“Sorry, Q, but 007 is being stubborn,” R said. “He keeps asking for you.”

 _Of course he would, the silly bastard,_ Q wanted to say, but decided wisely to save his strength. He’d better take in another ginger lozenge and see if it would help.

“Q?” said Bond over the comm. “You there?”

“Yes,” he said, keeping his responses short and to the point. He swallowed and his throat felt like sandpaper.

“Have you taken your medicine for nine o’clock?”

 _Bloody yes,_ Q would have growled if he could. He glanced around before he gave a soft grunt. No one seemed to have noticed the question.

“Good. It’s more complicated than we thought,” Bond said. “I’m going down a long corridor with doors, all of them encrypted.”

 _Yes, as expected,_ Q would have wanted to say. _You’ve got the skeleton key, what are you worried about?_

“You’ve got to dress warmly,” Bond said next. “Are you sure the key will work?”

_You’re being such a bloody baby. Why don’t you just stick it in and find out?_

“Yes,” he said again, all the while glaring at R, who’d turned her face slightly away to mask her smile. So apparently, not no one. _Ugh._ Q could expect questions— a lot of them— later from her.

“Okay, using it on the first door,” said Bond.

Q nodded at R as the jumbled sequence of code came up on their monitor. It took R less than a few seconds to decrypt it.

“You’re in, 007,” announced R.

“Wait, where’s Q?”

“Here,” gurgled Q, managing to inject a note of impatience into the word as he stood beside R, hands on his hips. By now, none of the minions close by were looking at him.

 _You bloody mother hen_ , Q fumed, glaring at the small, red dot that signified Bond on the screen before them.

“Okay, I’ve got three desks facing me—”

“Ri—” Q’s voice hitched on a dry cough before he ground out, “Right.”

“You know, it’s really quite refreshing to go about one’s mission with such clear, succinct directions,” said Bond conversationally as he broke into the table’s drawers. “Not to say that your usual eloquence comes at the cost of clarity.”

_What the hell, Bond._

“On the other hand, I do miss your voice, Q,” Bond continued as he took out a laptop and proceeded to raid its hard drive with the specially designed USB that Q had given him. “Of course, R is a darling, but it’s just not the same, not hearing from you.”

Q rolled his eyes.

“See, you’re like my good luck charm,” Bond said chattily as the copy completed, he proceeded to destroy the laptop’s contents before carefully placing it back where he found it and relocking the table. “I just hope you’re taking care of yourself and drinking that ginger and lemon tea regularly. God only knows when this mission is going to be over. Not for another week, at least.”

Q didn’t bother looking around him as he kept his murderous gaze straight ahead; nevertheless, he caught R’s shoulders shaking in silent mirth at his vision’s periphery.

“Q, you still there? Q??”

_Stop talking, you bloody wanker!_

Deciding restraint was the better part of valour, he merely huffed out an exasperated breath. Thankfully, that seemed enough for Bond.

“Okay, I’m out of here. Easy peasy, so far. Anyway, I was just thinking, once I get back—”

“You’ll pay. Dearly.”

It came out as a hiss, a slither of sound over ground glass.

Perhaps Bond had legitimate reason to doubt his hearing. “Say that again?”

_Okay, that’s it._

Q motioned for R with a hand slicing over his throat.

“007, this is R,” R cut in smoothly, wiping the last vestige of amusement from her face.

“But—”

Q never got to hear the rest of Bond’s protestations as he willed himself to turn and walk away.

So much for their relationship not coming into the light when one’s idiot boyfriend was wreaking havoc with him over the comms for everyone to hear.

He also knew it was because Bond was worried about him, that he missed him. It was kind of sweet, but for a seasoned spy to be so flagrant, even over secure channels…

It was, of course, bloody deliberate.

He would just have to delete the comms feed before it ever reached M, and punishment was indeed in order once Bond returned.

* * *

“Q?” said Bond, after the dinner things were cleared. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Hmm?” Q murmured as he took a sip of the excellent red wine that Bond had brought back with him. “Fine, I’m fine.”

“You’ve not said a handful of words all evening,” Bond noted.

But Q really was fine. It had been more than a week since he’d sounded like a food processor, grating away with that sore throat of his.

Q shrugged. “There’s not much to say,” he said in that smooth, clear voice, all traces of his laryngitis gone.

He was definitely back to normal. Yet—

“Oh, god,” said Bond as the penny finally dropped. “You’re sulking.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too,” Bond replied as a belated realization hit. “I’ve embarrassed you. You think I sound too cheesy over the comms—”

“Well. That was unforgivable, really,” agreed Q as he moved to colonize Bond’s lap.

“I missed you,” rumbled Bond, his arms snaking around the warm, slim body as Q bent to brush his nose against his.

“I know,” Q said softly, shifting his head away as Bond moved to kiss him. “Still, that’s hardly an excuse to embarrass me in front of my entire branch. There were so many questions afterwards. I was almost thankful I had laryngitis.”

“Sorry,” Bond replied readily, his voice a hot purr as he felt Q’s hands on him, sliding down to cup him lightly through his trousers. “I just can’t help it.”

 _“You_ can’t help it?” scoffed Q as he slithered out of Bond’s hold. “Try harder, Bond, if you’re to convince me that you’re genuinely contrite about outting us like that in front of everyone.”

Bond grinned as Q slid down his body, settling at his feet. He groaned as he felt Q palm him through his clothes, the feel of those agile fingers maddeningly light and not enough.

“I have a feeling they already know about us, but I apologize,” he said softly and, still, Q shook his head.

“Too easy,” Q said, pulling Bond’s zipper down to continue his exploration of Bond’s rapidly hardening flesh, still trapped in his briefs.

“Forgive me,” Bond said, inhaling deeply as Q moved to tongue him through his briefs, adding to the moisture there.

“Hmm,” said Q as he moved away, earning a deep sigh of disappointment from Bond.

They eyed each other for a moment, Q looking ridiculously calm as Bond struggled with his breathing.

Then, Bond said, “Please.”

Q raised an eyebrow at him. “Better,” he said as he moved to unbuckle Bond’s belt and pull down his trousers. “At last, you’re being honest.”

“I _was_ worried about you, darling,” Bond drawled.

“You needn’t be,” said Q. “I’ll just have to show you I’m all better now.”

A light shudder of arousal went through Bond as Q took hold of him. God, the feel of this man’s hands was like no other, firm one moment and teasing the next.

Bond watched him, pleased that Q very obviously enjoyed him so. He settled back, relishing the Quartermaster’s ministrations, feeling his cock harden further, filling out beneath those clever fingers.

Q bent his head to lick at the first drops of pre-come on the flared tip, the stroke of his tongue barely there. It was maddening.

Bond brought his hands down to cup Q’s head, his fingers catching in those gorgeous, dark locks, urging him to the task at hand, but Q shrugged him off.

“You can’t touch me,” Q announced and Bond nearly whined.

“You’re punishing me,” Bond said.

Q tilted his head, as if considering Bond’s words. “I am, yes,” he finally said. “Glad you’ve caught on, Bond. I did mean it when I said you were going to pay.”

 _“Ohhhh…”_ breathed Bond, with a lopsided smile. “Is that what this is?”

“Hands up where I can see them,” commanded Q, with a jerk of his chin, and Bond slowly raised his arms over his head. He arched his body forward, stretching like a great, big cat, liking the way his Quartermaster’s gaze darkened at the sight of him, offering himself so blatantly.

“Make it good, Q,” Bond drawled. “Make me pay, then.”

Q smirked as he touched his lips to the tip of Bond’s flesh in a chaste kiss before he opened his mouth to take in his entire length.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Bond ground out, his lips drawing back in a snarl as Q took him further and further in, in slow, smooth movements. His throat felt like heaven— hot and wet and tight— locking briefly in place as he got to the base of Bond’s prick.

_“Hhnngghh…”_

For a brief moment, Bond simply forgot words as he felt Q swallow around him, throat briefly spasming, threatening to gag.

 _Breathe. Just breathe,_ Bond wanted to say, and he felt Q inhaling sharply through his nose as he let his throat relax. Then he was pulling away from Bond, until only his lips were clinging tight to the head of Bond’s cock before he let off with a small pop.

“Oh, god, you’re the best, Q, you should win all the awards,” Bond found himself babbling as Q went back to teasing the head of his cock with his tongue. Smiling, he licked at Bond’s shaft with long, slow flicks before he brought his mouth down over Bond once again, swallowing him whole.

Q repeated the maneuver once, twice more and Bond could feel his release building, gathering force, coiling deep in his loins as his spine curved helplessly up and outward, his body a slave to the whims of his lover’s mouth.

“Coming,” he grunted at the last minute and he felt Q retreat to make room in his mouth for him before the first waves hit. With a deep groan, he came in long pulses in Q’s mouth, seemingly never ending, his mind blanking out in white-hot bliss.

He came back to himself in increments, moaning incoherently as Q laved at him, cleaning him up carefully before he finally let go.

“Fuck,” Bond croaked before he reached down to pull this marvelous creature up onto his lap. “Come here, you.”

He watched as Q fastidiously licked the remnants of his come from his lips.

“Well?” Q said, smiling as they kissed. Bond could taste himself, his scent heavy on Q’s breath, his tongue.

“Thoroughly slain, _fuck,”_ Bond said, and he felt Q’s mouth stretch into a grin of delight against his. “Well done.”

“I told you that you needn’t worry about me,” whispered Q as he took to peppering Bond with light kisses on his lips, his jaw, his neck. “My throat’s healed completely.”

“I stand fully corrected, then,” said Bond, smiling as he molded Q’s body to his. “Now it's your turn.”

“Hmm,” murmured Q happily as he settled against Bond, grinding against his lap.

“Of course, you realize that was no punishment or revenge in any way,” Bond pointed out, ready once again to rouse Q’s ire. “It felt more like a reward.”

“Oh, shut up, Bond,” said Q, his voice a purr of satisfaction.


End file.
